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Wordsmith
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Unsurprisingly, after stumbling into the apartment in the pale light of morning Xander slept all the way through Saturday. Surprisingly, he woke alone. Groggy from too much sleep he looked around his empty bedroom and wondered where Spike had gone. He had vague memories of struggling to consciousness several times in the past twenty four hours, and there had always been a slim hard body wrapped around him. Naked, he walked over to the window and peeked around the blackout curtain to see if it was daylight. Blinded from the white glare he quickly let go of the window covering and groped about for something to wear.
July was opening with sweltering heat. Even with the AC cranked it was going
to be hot. Xander wore only a pair of thin cutoff sweat pants as he padded from
the bedroom in search of his absent lover. Xander leaned against the
frame of the doorway to the kitchen, watching as a barefoot Spike gulped down
a mug of blood. Spike then removed the second bag he had heated and refilled
the mug.
"Should I keep restocking that?" Xander asked as Spike put the empty bag in the small medical waste container they kept in the cupboard underneath the microwave.
"Thinking of chucking me out, pet?" Spike spoke with his eyes cast down at his meal. His voice was soft and controlled, but Xander wondered if his eyes were blue or gold.
"No dipshit. I thought... I figured you might want... to start..." Xander's head hurt. *I should have stayed in bed. Should have avoided this subject as long as possible. Should have at least figured out what to say when he wants to go back to a diet of happy meals with legs. What if...?*
In a flash that line of thought was ended. There wasn't even a blur of movement. Suddenly, Spike's mug was on the counter and he had pinned Xander to the kitchen wall. Growling, golden-eyed, fangs bared Spike pressed his body into Xander's, their faces almost touching. Spike sneered out his words in a low silky voice, "What? Thought I'd start culling the herd?"
Xander couldn't look him in the eyes. Using his dark lashes to veil his vision of the angry vampire, Xander kept his head lowered as his spoke. "I don't want you to leave." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't want to lose you."
With a lightning lunge Spike's fangs were scraping along Xander's jugular,
as gently as when he had been chipped. "I'm not going anywhere," he
murmured against the pulse point. "Not ever. We clear on that?" he
asked as he pulled
back to look Xander in the eyes.
Wide-eyed, Xander met his gaze as Spike's eyes shimmered from gold back to blue. Xander swallowed and asked the question that been haunting him since Willow had removed the chip. "Are you going to turn me?"
"Do you want me to?" Spike asked forcefully.
"Do you want to?" Xander shot back with equal strength.
"Xander." Spike loosened his hold on Xander, but Xander grabbed both hands and held them where they had rested on his hips.
"I need to know what you want. I need to know... how you feel." Xander looked down again, not sure which answer he wanted to hear less.
"I want you," Spike hissed. "However I can have you, for as long as I can have you. If Red can find a way for you to still be you - then fine, but otherwise..." He finished in a sardonic voice, "I can bag it for your lifetime."
"And Dawn's?" Xander lifted a hand to caress Spike's angular cheek.
"And Dawn's," he said with a smile.
Xander felt a great big goofy grin nearly crack his face, but didn't care. He got to keep Spike, or Spike got to keep him - it really didn't matter which. "I have something for you." He reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small jewelry box.
"This better not be an engagement ring, pet." Spike tried to sound annoyed but his hand trembled when he opened the box.
Inside, mounted to a pendent on a silver chain, was the chip. He had had the
pendant and chain since Spike had moved in with him. The back had previously
been the front and had an ornate 'S' and 'X' engraved on it. The chip had
been mounted by Kelly before the battle, when Xander had been helping move the
bombs.
"What's this?" Spike asked.
"What do you mean 'What's this?'" Xander did a credible imitation of Spike's everyday accent.
"What does it mean, Xander?" Spike asked, switching to the bedroom accent.
"It means...." And for a moment he was stumped. *What does it mean?* Then, thinking back to some pillow talk about Victorian times, he said, "It means, I greatly esteem you." *Okay, so not working the Victorian speak.* Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. "I do, you know. You didn't just survive this." Xander gestured toward the chip. "You conquered it. I... If I haven't told you, I admire you. Your tenacity, your strength. You've really come through for me, for all of us." Xander faltered into a whisper. *Great! Any minute now, he's going to call me a big girl.*
Spike took the necklace from the box and stared at it a long moment. Then he lifted his deep blue eyes and stared at Xander. "Put it on for me, eh pet?"
Xander reverently placed the necklace on Spike. Willow had chosen the perfect length for the chain. It was suspended just over the spot where Spike's collarbone met his ribcage. Xander's favorite place to bite. Xander leaned in and softly kissed Spike's lips. He trailed kisses down the line of Spike's jaw and as he reached his neck began to intermix them with tiny nips. He pulled back to gaze at the handsome creature in front of him. After a few moments under his stare Spike laughed and said, "Say something, Pet."
"Fuck me?" Xander's voice was breathless and heady.
Spike's grip on Xander's hips tightened and he smoothly lifted him off the floor. "Here, or in the bedroom?"
Xander seemed torn only for a moment before answering. "Both?"
Spike lowered Xander down and emitted a low predatory growl as he turned him to the wall. The growl transformed to a purr as Spike ripped Xander's shorts neatly down the seam. Xander pressed his arms against the wall, spread his legs and thrust his hips back toward his lover. Kneeling behind him Spike pressed in and gently scrapped his blunt teeth against Xander's balls. With sweeping licks Spike slowly worked his way back toward Xander's opening. Xander moaned, his eyelids fluttered open just in time to see Spike lift the mug down from the counter. "Rule four, rule four!" he hissed, bucking his hips in time with his lover's tongue.
Which caused Spike to stop his assault and ask in a teasing voice, "What was rule four again?"
Xander whimpered at the lose of contact but manage to gasp out, ."No using
blood as lube."
"Need something, Pet." Spike said, returning to his task with vigor, but thankfully setting the mug aside.
Supporting himself with one arm Xander frantically reached toward the counter, while attempting to maintain contact with Spike's talented mouth. The salt shaker bounced across the floor, but Xander managed to snag the bottle of olive oil. He passed it down to his lover and waited for the cool liquid to be worked into him. Xander relaxed and leaned into him as Spike rose behind him while working his fingers deep inside. Spike was still fully clothed and snickered softly in Xander's ear. *Nothing like having a lover who can monitor your heartbeat to thoroughly map out your kinks.* Spike had teased Xander often about how quickly he got hot when he was naked and Spike was still dressed. Xander sighed and lay his head back on Spike's shoulder. Spike's purr kicked up a notch as he began to lave the corded muscles along the top of his shoulder with his tongue. Each thrust of his fingers sent waves of desire trembling over Xander's body.
Spike whispered softly against Xander's neck, ."Want you. Want to mark you. Deep in the muscle, leave a scar. Want to claim you." It was his human visage Spike rubbed along Xander's neck and across his shoulders, like a rutting cat. "Xander," Spike hissed with passion and need.
Xander moaned, his mind scrambling around a thousand thoughts. He knew what
this meant to Spike, and what it would mean for him. They had had this talk
when Spike was still chipped. Would the others understand? Xander didn't care
about the rest of the world, but Dawn? Willow? Giles and Tara? Would they misinterpret
this, blame Spike? Could they know what it meant to them, both of them? "Do
it," he gasped. He was acutely aware of the flesh rending
for one brief moment, then ecstasy. He never felt more alive, more connected.
The fact that he knew what this meant to Spike was intoxicating. He had a guilty
flare of sympathy for Riley. *No wonder this was too much for him to resist.
Although, the thought of letting just anyone - anyone other than Spike - do
something this intimate is revolting.* Then, euphoria swept over him, obliterating
all thought.
Slowly Xander became aware of the world around him. Spike was bathing the mark with long sweeps from shoulder to neck. Spike's fingers were still lazily moving inside Xander. His strong arm holding Xander around the chest were the only thing that had prevent the young man from collapsing to the floor with the force of his orgasm. Xander's come was dripping down the wall and Spike hadn't even undressed yet.
Spike slipped his fingers out and turned Xander to face him, never releasing his firm grip. Exerting tremendous effort and fighting post coital languor, Xander lifted arms and draped them around Spike's neck. Wishing he could purr himself, he settled for Spike's steady vibrations. Xander drowsily requested, "Bed now?"
Spike didn't throw him over his shoulder, like Xander expected. He gathered him into his arms and in a disconcerting show of vampire strength carried him slowly to the bedroom. After laying Xander down on the crumpled sheets, Spike knelt on the bed beside him and admired him like a work of art. Spike's look of unbridled lust, and something else deeper and more permanent, was making Xander wish his had a vampire's recuperative powers. Spike's fingers ghosted across Xander's naked flesh, brushing his lips, his nipples, trailing through the line of dark hair between his navel and genitals, but stopped nowhere.
"Please." Xander hoped his eyes and his feeble attempt to lift Spike's tee shirt conveyed his need for Spike to get naked. He knew he was down to wrapping his mind around only a few words and didn't think they would be very coherent.
Spike, ever the linguist, laughed as he leaned back and pulled his shirt off. He slowly unbuttoned his jeans, smirking at Xander's obvious frustration. His cock sprang out, rigid and ready as he tossed the denims off the bed. "For me?" Xander whispered, determined to show his lover he had been working on the whole retaining-the-ability-to-speak-during-sex thing.
Spike's laugh deepened and he crawled over Xander wearing nothing but the necklace and tongue kissed the mark. "Mine." Spike's voiced sounded happier than Xander had ever heard him. It contained none of the possessiveness he had expected; instead the rich deep tones were almost giddy. "My beautiful brown-eyed boy; my sweet precious pet; my Xander, so sweet." His hands tumbled and tickled, rolling Xander into a gasping giggling ball of desire. Spike finally lifted Xander's ankles over his shoulder and slid home into the well-oiled passage.
Xander bucked up into his purring, laughing lover and called out, "More, faster, harder, now, Spike, now." *So much for the whole speech thing.*
Spike obliged him by quickly increasing the tempo of his thrusts and angling for his prostate. As the repeated stimulation sent blood pounding to his head Xander could just make out Spike's words. "O, how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? And what is't but mine own, when I praise thee?[1]"
Xander hugged Spike tightly to him with both his arms and legs to prevent Spike from rolling off his body after his climax. He asked, "Did you write that?"
Spike lifted his head from where it was tucked under Xander's chin and met Xander drooping gaze with an incredulous look. His voice held exasperation and affection when he said, "Idiot."
Time passed. Basking in the afterglow segued into lazing about in bed, until the front door bell nudged Xander out of a light doze. "I told you Red was bringing over Chinese for supper, didn't I?" Spike asked, lifting his head up off Xander's stomach, which he had been using as a pillow.
Xander bolted from the bed, pulling on a crumpled pair of jeans as he left the bedroom. *Bad vampire. Bad Xander, going commando with Willow in the apartment.* Xander ran toward the front door, doubled back and slingshot into the kitchen. He scooped up the remains of his shorts and mopped up the spilled oil off of the floor. Using the oil soaked rag he wiped the dry come off the wall. Tossing the damp item into the covered trash bin, he flipped the switch on the fan above the stove in an attempt to get rid of the reek of sex. He finished his dash to the door just as the bell rang again.
Being Sunnydale, even though it was Sunday afternoon, he checked the peephole. *So not Willow and Tara, and speaking of commando.* Outside the door were the two commandos, Riley and Miller. Xander felt Spike stroking his bare spine and turned to be handed a tee shirt. *Spike? Covering me up? He spends all his time ripping my clothes off.* Spike smiled at Xander's confusion and trailed a finger across the mark. *Oh, duh. Goofy grin back. Erection back; commandos outside the door. Thanks, Spike.*
"It's Riley and that Miller guy. I'll totally lose the cleaning deposit if you kill them," Xander joked while biting his bottom lip.
"Told you I wouldn't," Spike scowled.
Xander pulled on the shirt and leaned in to plant a calming kiss on his pissed off lover. "Actually, you said you wouldn't hunt to feed, you never swore off revenge. Vengeance... Well, let's not go into my experience with vengeance." Xander offered Spike a wobbly smile. "But I owe Miller, and Finn's an asshole but he's Buffy's asshole. Wait... That really came out really wrong."
Spike snorted and turned and strolled back in to the apartment. "Unless they hurt you, Pet they're safe for now."
Thinking that was as much as he could hope for from Spike, Xander opened the
door. Riley was using a pair of crutches and sported a cast from the top of
this thigh to his ankle. Xander invited both men in, and lead the way into
the living room. The bedroom door was shut and there was no sign of Spike. "Can
I get you anything?" Xander asked the men.
"No. Thanks. Xander, I just wanted to say..." Riley faltered and looked to his friend for moral support. Graham didn't say anything, but he gave Riley a slight nod. "You were right," Riley said. "About everything."
"Riley... some of that stuff... I would have said anything to get you to talk. Those were my people in the front lines; the sooner we stopped you the fewer would die..." Xander temporized, but Riley cut in.
"It was true, and you know it. I was a liability to Buffy, to all of you. I put you in danger, and I'm doing the same thing to my unit now. I'm going to resign my commission and get some help." He looked down at the floor, seeming almost as broken as he had seemed the two nights ago. Miller looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to offer support to Riley but didn't want to make him seem any weaker in front of Xander.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Xander said. "Not sorry you're getting help, but that you're resigning. You've learned some hard lessons about blindly following orders and not questioning the results. I believe that deep down you're a good man, Riley Finn. I think that if good men leave the hard jobs to those without the moral conscious for it to bother them then only the bad men are doing those jobs."
"Thanks, Xander, that means a lot." Riley clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders. Graham placed a supportive hand on his back.
"She loved you," Xander said softly. "Believe that that means you're worth loving. I do."
The doorbell rang and Riley used the distraction to break eye contact with Xander's frank gaze. Spike emerged from the bedroom, much to the surprise of the commandos. "That'll be the girls," he said as he continued to stroll to the door.
Riley looked like he was going to say something, but was interrupted by the sounds from the doorway. Dawn squealed and threw her arms around Spike's neck and the men in the living room heard her clear voice say, "I always miss the explosions!"
Spike snorted and swung her up in his arms. He carried her into the apartment, trailed by witches bearing paper sacks of Chinese food. Dawn stopped laughing when she saw Riley. Spike set her down on her feet, but she locked both arms around his waist and pressed close.
"Hi, Dawn." Riley said.
"Riley." She answered. Her eyes darted from one commando to another. If she looked this scared with them in street clothes, Xander was glad she hadn't run into them in uniform.
"I can't tell you how sorry I am. About your mom, about Buffy...."
The young man looked so helpless, apparently Willow couldn't stand to let him
twist in the wind. "Thank you, we appreciate your sympathy," Willow
said quietly, setting her bag down on the dining table and turned to take Tara's
and doing the same. "I feel horrible about your finding out like that,"
Willow continued. *That's my Willow, always ready to forgive and forget.* Willow
crossed to stand near Dawn and Spike. "We would have told you as soon
as it happened, but of course we couldn't. We tried to reach you before Buffy
died." She gently stroked Dawn's hair. *Or maybe not, maybe she's just
going to bludgeon him with a shovel.*
Xander stepped in before Riley and his friend ended up sharing a cage with Amy. He cast a significant glance at the little group standing so close together, complete now that Tara had sidled up to Willow. *Maybe the whole pack thing isn't just hyena-speak.* "We're all glad to hear you're getting help, Riley. We've lost too many good people to the Hellmouth.
The doorbell rang again, and Riley and Graham declined to stay for dinner.
Xander let Giles in while he let the commandos out. He responded to Giles' raised
eyebrow with a shrug and a shake of his head. They could discuss it
later. For now, food beckoned and all else was secondary. Xander sat at his
table. He watched Dawn pumping Spike for details about the battle. He caught
Tara's covert eye roll to Willow over some piece of Spike hyperbole. He looked
across the table at Giles and smiled. This was home.
This was family. Whatever tomorrow brought, they could face it together.
1. Shakespeare
The End
Restoration: Spike's POV
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